See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Greetings and salutations, everyone! Wow, so many reviews, so many readers – hopefully, I'm doing something right. :) Seriously, thank you all who have sent feedback and reviews, 'tis truly appreciated. Good or bad, I want to hear what you think! Now, some people have questioned me on who's going to end up together with who – unfortunately though I can't comment on that, it'd ruin the surprise. Anyway, on with the show…
Part Four: Upsetting News
St. Matthew's Hospital, Los Angeles
October 1st, 1997
It was going to be a difficult meeting, the doctor knew that. Such meetings were always difficult, but that never made it less easy to deal with them.
He studied the file before him. William Fordham; seventeen, nearly eighteen years old. A high school senior who should have had his whole life ahead of him, but instead, he now spent most of his time emptying his stomach. In fact, his good days were the ones where he was only throwing up what he last ate. The bad days were much worse.
By the time Ford had gone to see a doctor and the hospital tests were done, it had been too late in more ways than one.
( Multiple tumors of the parietal lobe, ) the doctor thought to himself sadly. ( Dear Lord, a whole bunch of malignant gliomas that are completely inoperable – the boy has only six, maybe seven, months to live. Ah well, I guess there's no point in delaying the inevitable... )
"Send in the Fordham family," the neurosurgeon buzzed through the intercom. As Ford and his parents came in, the doctor kindly asked them to take a seat and then he spilled the bad news as gently as possible.
Perhaps not surprisingly, Mr. and Mrs. Fordham went into shock at once. But their son appeared to be made of sterner stuff than that – Ford had already suspected the truth, and accepted his grim fate with a stoicism that surprised all three grown-ups.
Of course, the adult trio had no idea about the existence of vampires, unlike the one and only Billy Fordham; who had already started making plans on how to survive this, at least after a fashion.
The Bronze, Sunnydale
October 11th, 1997
Cordelia Chase and Buffy Summers were two very lucky girls, after the events of the previous night.
After giving up on the whole 'leaving Sunnydale' option, thanks to her father's blunt refusal, lately Cordelia had been trying to snag Crestwood College frat boy, Richard Anderson. She'd known that he was a rich jerk, but what the brunette hadn't known was that he was also a demon worshipper. More specifically, worshipper of a huge snaky demon known as Machida, who ate three girls – virgin sacrifices – on the tenth day of the tenth month every year, in return for supplying his followers with mortal wealth and power.
Cordelia had been selected as one such sacrifice, along with Buffy and another high school girl known as Callie Anderson. During the party last night in the Delta Zeta Kappa frat house, Miss Chase had been drugged unconscious along with her partner in crime, Buffy – who had readily accepted the offer of a date from Tom Warner. He'd seemed like a nice guy – but that was before Miss Summers had found out Tom was actually a vicious killer, and the head of a demonic cult.
Luckily, Buffy had gotten free and killed Machida just as he was about to chow down on Cordelia, and the Scooby Gang had arrived on the scene to act as reinforcements for the Slayer.
"Okay, Willow, I think it's now official. Apart from Jesse and Giles, all men are scum," Buffy said gloomily to her red-haired best friend within the crowded and noisy Bronze.
"Oh, Buffy, don't say that," Willow said quickly. "Just because you've had a few bad experiences..."
"You mean like that Spike guy, who tried to kill me during Parent-Teacher Night? Or how about those computer nerds, Dave and Fritz, who tried to kill me last year? Tom and Richard followed in their footsteps and nearly killed me, too," Buffy said sarcastically. "Even that kid vampire, Collin, the Annoying One. He led me straight to the Master six months ago!"
"Well, okay, so there's been a lot of bad apples lately," Willow admitted. "But there ARE decent guys out there just waiting for you to find, I mean there – there have to be!"
"Name one," Buffy said bluntly.
"Well – look over there!" Willow pointed in Cordelia's direction. "Lance Brooks, he was a senior who, who graduated last year? He was a very popular guy, and all the girls were crazy about him!"
"Huh. If he graduated from high school, then why's he still wearing that letterman jacket?" Buffy asked in confusion, as she took in the sight of the cotton poly-blend material that was holding Miss Chase spellbound – until Lance took the jacket off, anyway.
Willow shrugged; she didn't know that the jacket was enchanted to make all the girls fall in love with its wearer and that in this world, Lance didn't have a younger brother named R.J. to bequeath the jacket to. In any case, Jesse came over to their table at that moment with a newspaper in his hands, which made the girls forget about Lance.
"Hey, guys! Listen to this: it says here that all those frat boys are almost certainly going to be sentenced to consecutive life sentences for murder. Investigators found the bones of missing girls in a huge cavern beneath the frat house. As well as older bones dating back fifty years," Jesse read aloud as Buffy and Willow exchanged a grossed-out look. "Apparently, a huge number of corporations whose chairmen and founders are former Delta Zeta Kappas are suffering from falling profits and IRS raids...oh man, talk about your icky suicides in the boardroom!"
"Which only goes to strengthen my 'all men are scum' theory," Buffy grimaced.
"On behalf of my gender, hey!" Jesse looked offended.
"I mean, apart from you and Giles," Buffy qualified, sending him a sunny smile.
"What are you three talking about?" Darla's voice interrupted the conversation, as the blonde vampiress joined the mortal teens.
"Darla, what's your opinion on guys? Are ANY of them worth bothering with?" Buffy asked carefully. The Slayer knew that the female vampire had been kinda depressed ever since Parent-Teacher Night, something about all her bloodline having become extinct now or whatever.
Darla looked at the Chosen One. "There was one, before I was cursed with a soul...did I ever mention Angelus?"
"No, but that Spike guy mentioned his name during Parent-Teacher Night. Before I dusted him," Buffy abruptly recalled.
"So who was Angelus?" Jesse asked with a jealous look on his face.
"He was my most magnificent creation, back in 1753," Darla mused with a somewhat glazed look in her eyes. "In life he was the handsome, womanizing son of an Irish linen merchant. But after I turned him into a vampire, there was a darkness within him that even the Master felt wary about – ye gods, but Angelus was an evil, sadistic..."
Darla trailed off as he saw the expressions on her companions' faces. "Still. For nearly 150 years, Angelus was the epitome of bliss to me. No other man could compare to his talents, both in and out of bed. Inasmuch as a soulless monster can love, I DID love him. When he was dusted – in my rage, I wanted to destroy the entire world. So it's probably lucky I was cursed with a soul, at that."
Darla then snorted, "Although if you want to believe that demon flunky calling himself Whistler, luck had nothing to do with it."
"Uh, who's this Whistler guy?" Willow wanted to know.
"A balance demon who works for the Powers That Be, apparently. And that's ALL I care to say about the subject," Darla sent a warning look to the others not to press the matter.
"So, then – could I have the honor of the next dance, milady?" Jesse asked hopefully with a smile, as he got up from his seat at the table.
Darla just stared at him, as a slow romantic ballad started to play on the dance floor. Screwing up his courage McNally said, "Please? Maybe it'll help you take your mind off of this Angelus guy."
The ensouled vampiress rolled her eyes and said, "Fine. One dance." Darla irritably took Jesse by the hand and led him away to the crowd of bodies.
"Okay, am I the only one who's getting a way-creepy 'Mrs. Robinson' type of vibe here?" Buffy asked, craning her neck to try to keep an eye on her best male friend.
"Oh, Buffy, Jesse's just being Jesse – it's not as if Darla's leading him on or anything," Willow said dismissively. "And even if she was, she's a whole lot better for him than Cordelia!"
"I thought you two were starting to get along a bit better, y'know, after Parent-Teacher Night," Buffy said in surprise.
"We are," Miss Rosenberg shrugged, even though she was trying her best to repress what it had been like being stuck in that utility closet all night with her old kindergarten nemesis. Even now, Willow couldn't believe that Cordy had actually listened to her suggestion whilst the brunette had been praying, and asked God to send her some aspirin.
"But like I said, Buff – vampire or not, if it comes down to a choice between Darla and Cordelia for Jesse to lust after? I'd pick the demon any day of the week..."
Unknown demon dimension
The same time
It had been nearly fourteen years since Anyanka and Halfrek had been imprisoned within a cube of hellfire in this heavily fortified location. Fourteen years of unending torment, that would have been enough to drive anyone mad – except, perhaps, a vengeance demon.
As Anyanka, the patron saint of scorned women, screamed in agony, she abruptly noticed something had changed. For the first time ever since IT had happened, she was alone in her cage; Halfrek was nowhere in sight. The burning demoness then noticed Hallie's amulet on the floor of the cube, as it slowly faded away into nothingness.
As the amulet vanished from existence, so too did the last Wish that had been made upon the demonic talisman. In this case, that was the last change made by a REAL Wish from nearly fourteen years ago, a change made through the wishing power of the amulet. Thus, there was no alteration to the timeline – no sudden changes in history, since the last days of 1983.
The Powers That Be had ended Halfrek's Wish – but not undone it.
Anyanka didn't know how she knew it, but she nonetheless understood that her best friend had just been erased from existence. Even though she never stopped hollering in tortured pain, the thought entered Anyanka's mind that their jailers had seen fit to kill her best friend and not her.
But Anyanka did not feel happy for her gal pal, upon realizing this. She actually felt jealous, instead. Jealous that Halfrek had escaped this pitiful excuse for existence the only way she could, while she continued to burn in this never-to-be-sufficiently-damned prison.
And upon feeling this emotion, Anyanka's mind finally snapped completely; the demoness almost literally felt the last shreds of her sanity slip away.
Anyanka kept on screaming, seemingly never to stop. The sight of her friend gaining relief while she continued to suffer had truly sent her over the edge, and left the demoness a broken and psychotic mess.
Outside a local blood bank, Los Angeles
October 23rd, 1997
( My God, but high school is hell, ) Xander Harris thought to himself philosophically as he brought his uncle's car – a classic blue 1957 Chevy Bel Air – to a halt, finally arriving at his destination. ( It's like a human jungle, where only the strong survive. Maybe I should drop out like Ford did? Well, at least I hope that's what he did...)
Xander paused as he started to get out of his car, wondering yet again about his old friend's disappearing act. Harris was reasonably sure that Ford wasn't dead, anyway, as his father had answered the phone and said that his son was in his room and 'unavailable' to talk. ( Still, he don't write, he don't call – something funny's definitely going on there. )
Not half as odd as what was about to happen to Xander, though.
He had arrived here today to donate some blood in order to make a few bucks, and to sample the free cookies – Xander's sweet tooth had to be seen to be believed, Sunnydale boy or otherwise. Oddly, this was the very same blood bank that was used as a screening tool by a demon in disguise calling himself "Ken", in his search for human slaves; but that was irrelevant right now.
What was important was that Xander's car suddenly came to life as all the doors locked themselves, all the windows came up and the roof unfurled from the rear, effectively trapping the male teenager in his own vehicle. The engine then switched on all by itself, before the Chevy shifted into gear and lurched off into the afternoon traffic.
"Hey! HEY! What the FUCK is going on here?" Xander demanded heatedly, as all his efforts to stop the car failed to work. The brakes refused to respond, and trying to switch off the ignition was pointless. The doors wouldn't budge, either. And a few seconds later, the seat belt moved under its own power, strapping him down in the driver's seat so tightly that the boy couldn't help but think there would be a Xander-shaped imprint left in the seat, once he finally got out.
"Help! HELP!" Xander screamed, trying to catch the attention of someone – anyone – close by. But that was futile; this was LA, and one of the most basic rules for the citizens in this city was 'don't get involved'. Thus the young man was helplessly carried off to his destination – a holy spot in the remote southern California desert.
The same place Buffy would have eventually gone on a vision quest, a few years hence.
"It's about time you got here," Whistler said grouchily, as the Chevy finally glided to a stop later that night and Xander wasted no time in leaping out of the haunted car once it released him from his bondage.
"Where am I? And who the hell are you?" Xander demanded, looking freaked despite having learned about vampires and demons and magic last year.
"Name's Whistler. And as for where you are? Call it Harlem," the balance demon said in his distinctive Queens accent.
"Harlem?" Xander obviously didn't get the reference.
"The end of the line," Whistler said impatiently.
"Wait a minute, I – how the HELL did I get here? I mean, my car just..." the young man gestured frantically towards the Harris-mobile.
"Yeah, sorry about that. But then, I figured you might turn down a formal invitation – and since I needed your tokus here tonight given the proper star alignments 'n all, what you just went through was simply the easiest way to bring you here, where you had to be."
Xander started to back away from Whistler. "What kind of weirdo are you? And what do you want with me?"
"As for question number one – despite appearances, I'm a demon. But I'm not a bad guy, believe it or not; despite popular misconception, not all demons are dedicated to the destruction of all life," Whistler shrugged, putting all his cards on the table as Xander gaped at him in sheer disbelief.
"So what about question number two?" Xander finally said, once he managed to pick his jaw up off the ground. "Are you gonna...eat me or something?"
"Kid, please – that's disgusting. On account of I ain't that kind of demon, and this isn't a movie starring Ethan Hawke," Whistler grimaced as Xander automatically exhaled in relief. "Bottom line, I'm here to do a ritual for you to communicate with someone from beyond the grave."
"You can do that?" Xander asked in wide-eyed amazement, before shaking himself. "Whoa, hold up – pause and rewind. WHY would you want to do that? Seriously, mister, what's the what around here? 'Cause I, I'm very confused..."
"Yeah, I guess you would be." Whistler tried to think of the best way to put this. "Putting it in its simplest possible terms, kid, we need your help."
"We? Who's we?" Xander asked at once.
"The overseers of good for this dimension. They're most commonly known as the Powers That Be," Whistler told him. "And before you ask what sort of help we need from you, I'll tell you. According to my information, you need to move back to the old home town – Sunnydale. Or la Boca del Infierno, as it's otherwise known."
"The mouth of Hell?" Xander demanded, eyes wide. "I never heard it called that before. And why the heck would I want to go live there? It's bad enough Rory drags me to that sleepy little town once a year to visit my parents' graves, but no way in hell do I-"
"I got news for you, kid. Your dad, Tony Harris? He's not dead. Well, technically he isn't, anyway," Whistler interrupted, a sympathetic look on his face.
"What? What are you talking about? He died along with my mom in that fire, on my third birthday!" Xander said angrily.
"No, he didn't; but then, I'm not the one who needs to explain all that to you," Whistler exhaled wearily. He then began to make a circle with some twigs and branches, and subsequently did an odd series of movements in and out of the circle.
"Whistler, or whatever your name is – you brought me here all the way from LA just to do the hokey-pokey?" Xander demanded in disbelief, wondering if he really was dreaming right now.
But that thought was quickly dispelled, when a huge pillar of fire abruptly roared into existence a short distance away.
Panicking as primitive memories of his third birthday abruptly surfaced, Xander held a hand against his face to shield himself from the heat of the flames – and then he heard the woman's voice. "Hello, sweetie."
Backing away as the flames disappeared, Xander dropped his hand and then stared at the red-haired woman dressed in white before him. He had seen her face for as long as he could remember, in the pictures his uncle had on the mantelpiece of the Harris home. "MOM?"
"Yes. Or at least, I'm what's left of Jessica Lavelle Harris after she died way back when," the ghost said sadly. The truth was that she did not want to be here, and did not want to have this particular conversation with her son – but her free will had been overruled, and, however reluctantly, Jessica had to do as she'd been ordered by the higher powers.
"Touch me if you like," the female apparition held out her right arm, which Xander gingerly touched – or at least tried to, for his hand went right through her noncorporeal form. "Yes, Alexander, I really am a ghost. And I was summoned here by that balance demon, Whistler, to answer all your questions."
Xander abruptly looked around for his demon companion, but the guy was now nowhere to be seen. Dismissing that as unimportant, Harris said, "Mom, if that's really you – I, I need to know something. Is my dad dead or not?"
"Tony's alive. In a manner of speaking," Jessica grimaced.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Xander demanded angrily, he was starting to get fed up with this very confusing situation.
"Sweetie, I hate to tell you this – but your father's a Sluggoth demon. Right now he's living underground somewhere in Canada," Jessica said as gently as she could, even as Xander looked ready to faint upon hearing her words. "No, it's okay! YOU aren't a half-demon or anything like that, all right? What happened that day when Tony got turned into a demon worm – just listen and I'll explain everything, understand?"
Xander nodded numbly as his mother started to talk. Jessica didn't pull her punches or try to soften the blow; she simply told her son about what had happened during his third birthday. How Anyanka and Halfrek had tricked her into saying "I wish!" after Tony had been called a pathetic worm, amongst other things, and Anyanka had 'embellished' a little on her client's Wish.
"You're, you're serious? That sort of thing really does happen in real life?" Xander said, looking wide-eyed as Jessica looked away. "Mom, if all this is true, then we've got to-"
"I'm sorry, Alexander, but if you're wanting to make your father human again? The only way to do that is to destroy the amulet of the vengeance demon who cursed him, in order to reverse the Wish. And apparently, she's locked up somewhere in another dimension, and practically impossible to get to. Not to mention that even if you did succeed in smashing her pendant somehow, as a demon, Tony's killed quite a lot of people over the years – so I doubt he'll be able to handle what he's done, once his humanity's restored. The odds are your father would end up completely insane afterwards, and that's a best case scenario," Jessica said unhappily.
"What?" Xander couldn't believe it. Then he suddenly looked suspicious at the new expression on his mother's face. "Mom? What is it?"
"There's something else I have to tell you, dear. And it's, it's not something you're going to like hearing," Jessica said sorrowfully.
"Like I've enjoyed hearing any part of this story so far?" Xander demanded belligerently.
Jessica sighed. "I'm afraid you made a Wish as well, during that day."
"WHAT?"
The red-haired lady in white nodded. "You were just a little boy making a wish on your birthday, sweetie. So please don't blame yourself, you didn't know what would happen..."
"What did I wish for?" the younger Harris cut her off, looking afraid of the answer. The truth was he didn't remember any of this – in fact, his very first memory was of the fire that had claimed his mother's life, and the traumatic nature of that memory had caused him to have nightmares throughout his early childhood and repress it as much as possible.
"It doesn't really matter now," Jessica hastily tried to change the subject. "In fact, I've heard that that particular demoness died recently-"
"Mom! What. Did. I. Wish. For?" Xander demanded, looking determined not to be fobbed off about this. "What did I do? Tell me!"
The ghost pseudo-sighed again. "You wished for what a lot of children that age wish for, honey. That everything would end up happily ever after."
"Huh? I don't get it," Harris replied, looking lost. "How is that a, a bad thing?"
Jessica REALLY didn't want to answer this question, but she knew that she had to. "Sweetie...this is going to be very hard for you to hear, but the truth is – despite what Rory may have told you, Tony and I weren't exactly candidates for a 'Parents of the Year' award. Your father – he drank too much, and I was always feeling insecure and bitter about dropping out of college after I ended up pregnant with you. Had I lived, and Tony not become a demon, well – your life would have been..."
Jessica trailed off, seeing the horror on her son's face. "Alexander?"
"You mean – this, this is all MY fault? I, I wished for you and Dad to-?" Xander couldn't quite bring himself to finish his sentence.
"NO!" Jessica shouted, determined to nip this in the bud right now. "Alexander, all this is NOT your fault, so don't you blame yourself for what that demon did! Do you understand me, young man? Don't you DARE do something like that, or I'll haunt you every night for the rest of your life! Do you understand me? I'm your mother, so you LISTEN to what I'm saying!" The ghost advanced towards her offspring, wagging a maternal finger disapprovingly.
"Okay, fine – but, but what exactly are you saying, mom?" Harris recoiled the way teenagers often do, when being confronted by an angry parental unit. "I mean, if it wasn't my fault – then my life, the life I've had with Rory ever since that day in Sunnydale – well, that's as good as it gets? THIS is my happily ever after? The peppermint schnapps, the cheap prostitutes, the animal carcasses flung around the house once a month?" Xander demanded.
"Not exactly, Alexander. I mean, as far as I know – you would have left Rory behind and lived your own life after graduating high school, you would have eventually created your own happiness in Los Angeles. Well, 'happily ever after' being a subjective term, of course, given that you were under a demonic curse and all..."
A pause. "But now the Powers That Be have intervened, and your Wish was in some way nullified without undoing history for the last fourteen years. That's why you were brought here tonight, for you to understand the situation. Basically, honey – you've just been drafted into helping fight the good fight, because your original destiny in Sunnydale has somehow been restored," Jessica said sadly.
"Why? I mean, who did I piss off in order for something like that to happen?" Xander was still mentally reeling from all the information he'd been bombarded with.
"No one. But like it or not, the Powers want you in Sunnydale. They NEED you there, in order to help prevent the end of the world," the ghost woman told him. "I'm so sorry, if I could somehow prevent all this from happening, I would – but I can't. Sweetie, you deserve to be happy..."
"But at what cost, mom? I mean, I haven't forgotten what happened when the vampires showed up at the Hemery High gym last year. If Summers hadn't burned the place down when she did, Ford and I figured that a lot more people would have died that night."
Xander shook his head, already beginning to resign himself to the inevitable. "There's no real point in trying to fight this, is there? If everything you've said is true, then I don't actually have a choice in what to do here. Do I?"
"If it's any consolation, things won't be all bad after it's arranged for you and Rory to move to Sunnydale," Jessica tried to cheer her son up without responding to the question. "In fact, you'll be meeting three very special girls soon – a blonde, a redhead and a brunette. Not to mention a female vampire with a soul."
"A what with a WHAT?" Xander demanded, as Jessica began to explain all about Darla – before telling him details about how to survive as a long-term resident of Sunnydale. Most of it was material Xander already knew; like, don't ever invite anyone into your home, stay indoors or in public places after dark, always carry some holy water or a stake, stuff like that. But still, it felt nice to get some motherly advice like this for once in his life.
There was one thing Jessica avoided mentioning, however; the fact that Xander was effectively taking Spike's place in the battle of good versus evil. Because the Powers That Be did not want Harris to know that...
Yet.
TBC...